


The Matara's House

by Firefightrix



Category: Clans of Kalquor - Tracy St. John
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefightrix/pseuds/Firefightrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The planet Kalquor is suffering population decline as a result of a virus that has decimated its female population. Intially, Kalquor dealt with this by forming the clan family system: one female called a Matara bonded with three males, one of each breed: Imdiko, the nurturer, Nobek, the protector, and Dramok, the leader. But the effects of the virus ensured that on its own, Kalquorians would be extinct in a few hundred years.</p>
<p>Kalquorian scientists discovered that despite some physical differences Kalquorians can interbreed with Earthers. After several years and an interplanetary war that decimated Earth, Kalquor has set up Lottery to facilitate Earther females joining Kalqourian Clans. </p>
<p>Clan Vermaun does not fit the rigid roles defined by Kalquorian society. Despite this, they have survived and thrived together for decades, running and serving at the largest pleasure house on Kalquor. Can they help one traumatized Matara find her way back? Or will exposure threaten to dissolve their clan and ruin all they have built together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clan Vermaun

**Author's Note:**

> For a complete history of this world go to http://tracystjohn.blogspot.com/p/the-kalquorian-empire.html or, better yet, buy and read all of the books in the series.

Nobek Hartob strode purposefully across the floor of the pleasure house, smoothing down the stray hairs that had escaped his single thick braid. Presented with an unexpected summons as soon as he exited the playroom, he had left his recent client in the capable healing hands of Imdiko Ruhan. An embrace and a bow of respect was all the aftercare he was able to give the young Esau.  
“You prove a worthy opponent yet again, fierce Nobek.”  
“You flatter me, Hartob.” Esau had replied. “One of these days, I will best you.”  
“I have no doubt that when you desire it enough, you will best me.” Hartob assured. Esau gave a shy smile. Hartob wondered if Esau knew how true the statement was.  
Had this been the Nobek's first visit, duty would have demanded that Hartob be the one to dress his wounds and soothe his pride. Thankfully Esau was a frequent patron and would require little comforting.  
Hartob used a cleansing cloth to clear the blood off his chin as he walked. If the swelling in his right eye continued, he may have use the med kit himself. Hartob knew that his Dramok employer would prefer that he be prompt instead of pretty. Clean up would wait.  
His step slowed as he approached the door to his employer's office. Standing in the entryway was the sexiest Imdiko that Hartob had ever met. Imdiko Pleekah reclined against the edge of the opening. His long black hair fell down behind hundreds of thin braids. His hands lay draped across his chest.  
“You look a mess,” his low tenor seemed to caress something deep in Hartob's chest. “Are you fresh from the fight sweet Nobek?” Pleekah stood and closed the distance between them. His gentle thumb traced the wound on Hartob's lip. “I wonder how the other Nobek looks?”  
“He looks much worse than me, I am afraid.” The spicy, scent of the Imdiko's arousal filled the air. Hartob reached out and pulled the Imdiko against him. Pleekah matched inch for inch of Hartob's almost seven foot height, bringing the Imdiko's lips well in reach for a kiss. Pleekah placed his hands on Hartob's broad chest and pushed him away. Pleekah's lithe figure made him no match in strength against the brawny Nobek, but Hartob allowed the Imdiko to slide out of his embrace.  
“Now, now Hartob.” Pleekah scolded, too loudly. “Hands off the merchandise.” Pleekah's face spoke his disappointment even as he pulled away from the Nobek. “Besides, Dramok Vermaun is expecting you.”  
“Ho ho!” Nobek Tenol called as he approached the pair. “Pleekah! Are you playing with Nobeks now? After watching you dance under the Imdiko Revat's lash, I have been dreaming of the possibility of getting my hands on you.”  
“I am sorry dear Nobek,” Pleekah smiled demurely. “It's only Imdikos for me.” With a toss of his braids, Pleekah sauntered down the hall.  
“That Imdiko loves pain more than any Nobek I have ever known. Why will he only accept Imdiko patrons? It can't be because he is afraid of a little rough handling.” Nobek Tenol sighed. “What do you think, Hartob?”  
Hartob only shrugged.  
“I must attend Dramok Vermaun. Good day, Nobek Tenol.” with a nod, Hartob entered his employer's office.  
“Hartob,” the Dramok inclined his head in greeting. “Ah, I see the play session went well. Who was victorious?”  
“I bested the young Nobek Esau. His wounds are much more dramatic than mine.”  
“Again?” Vermaun raised one eyebrow. “That boys tastes don't change much, do they? If they ever do, it will be very difficult for you to throw the fight convincingly after all these years!”  
“Vermaun!” Hartob exclaimed, glancing back to assure that the door had sealed behind him.  
“Don't fear, my Nobek. None can hear us here.” Vermaun stretched in his seat. Rising, he stood in front of Hartob. Despite his smaller stature and more modest musculature, Hartob still felt intimidated by the intense stare of his Dramok.  
Vermaun slid his hand up the Nobek's chest and across his neck, gripping the long braid firmly at the base. "None will learn of your sneaky genius." With a firm tug, he pulled Hartob's head sideways and down. "And none will see how badly my fierce Nobek secretly longs to submit." Vermauns whispered taunt made Hartob's knees weak. Even so recently sated in Esau's flesh, Hartob's cocks began to swell.  
“I can smell your desire, Hartob.” the Dramok's eyes lingered over the bulge in the Nobek's pants. Hartob leaned against the older man, rubbing his face in Vermaun's long loose hair. “I do wish I could do something about it.” Vermaun sighed.  
“We could, my Dramok. No one would suspect anything from just one tumble in your office.” Hartob whispered.  
“I know, my lover.” Vermaun stepped back. “But one can easily become two, and two can become twenty, and our carelessness would cost us all eventually.”  
“You are right, as always, my Dramok.”  
“Tonight, dear Nobek.” Vermaun kissed him gently. “Tonight.”  
Hartob took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How may I aide you this afternoon?”  
“I have received a comm from Dr. Conyod.”  
“Matara Rachel's Imdiko?” Hartob interrupted.  
“The same. He is a psychologist who specializes in traumatized Mataras. He wants help with an unusual therapy. To that end, he has asked me to visit the hospital this afternoon and to bring my most submissive employee with me.” Vermaun paused. “Someone I think could accept pain from a very unskilled dominant.”  
“That is why you were meeting with Pleekah?”  
“Yes.” Vermaun chuckled. “Our clan mate could accept the whip from a Plasian and still enjoy himself.” Vermaun looked Hartob in the eye. “I want to bring you as well.”  
Hartob bowed his head. “As always, I submit to your judgment, my Dramok.” Vermaun reached up and caressed his cheek.  
“Go and ready yourself. We leave for the hospital as soon as you are done.” Vermaun chuckled. “What a luxury it will be to leave the pleasure house together."


	2. Matara Lynn

Matara Lynn pressed her forehead against the viewing glass. Inside the playroom, a mature Dramok slid his cock slowly, millimeter by tantalizing millimeter, into the ass of a restrained Imdiko who looked barely old enough to be an adult.  
But of course he was, the pleasure house was careful to ensure that all participants in the playroom were there consensually and legally.  
She had watched for at least an hour as the older male had brought the Imdiko repeatedly close to climax, never allowing him to achieve it. Now the poor young thing wept tears and pre-come as he begged for the Dramok to finally fuck him. The Dramok was careful with his penetration. Too swift of a thrust would certainly cause the Imdiko's uncontrollable release to spill onto the floor.  
Despite the respectful distance they maintained, she could feel the wall of Nobeks behind her, fellow beneficiaries of this gift of sweet torture. The spicy smell of Kalquorian arousal filled the air to saturation. She was drunk with it. It was all she could do not to cry out with the Imdiko, "Krewet!"  
In her darkest fantasy, a brave Nobek would stride up behind her and place a single hand between her shoulder blades. She could imagine him forcing her against the glass. Without a word to her, he would lift her skirt and plunge his cocks into her pussy and ass. She imagined the brutal fucking she would receive as she was pressed against the glass helpless to stop him. She envisioned a line forming behind her assaulter, each waiting their turn to shove inside her body. Her pussy drooled down her leg. Could they smell her arousal the same way that she smelled theirs? The growl from the crowd behind her made her think maybe they could.  
She startled to feel a hand on her shoulder, for just a moment thinking her fantasy was coming true. To her utter surprise, she climaxed.  
"Matara! You must come with me."  
Lynn turned around to see a young Imdiko behind her. Fear, shock and embarrassment took turns controlling his lovely face, but fear soon won. She looked over his arm to see the group of Nobeks had turned in to a snarling mob. One was even being held back by his fellows. None of them were watching the poor young Imdiko be tormented so thoroughly. All of them had eyes on her.  
She let herself be led way from the terrifying and yet mesmerizing sight.  
She was led into a quiet room next door to the playroom she had been observing. The Imdiko took a seat on a sitting cushion, gesturing to another nearby for her.  
"I am sorry to have startled you." He bowed deeply at the waist. "I am Imdiko Cluvat. You have no need to fear my intentions in getting you alone. I prefer the company of other men. I only feared that the crowd you were attracting would begin fighting amongst themselves. You may still observe the scene you were watching." He gestured toward a vid on the table. With a touch of his hand, the vision of the Imdiko being pounded furiously sprung to life. With each thrust of his Dramok lover, fluid poored out of the Imdiko primary cock, as if it was being pushed out on the floor. The Imdiko's screams of joy filled the room.  
"Turn if off, please." Lynn covered her eyes. The Imdiko touched something else and the screams were cut off in the middle. Lynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The breath turned into a sob and before she could stop herself, she began to cry. Shuddering, wracking, body aching sobs overtook her. She felt herself lifted and placed in Cluvat's lap. His large hand rubbed her back.  
"There, there Matara. Let it all out." Lynn laid her head against his chest and just cried. As the tears slowed, she became aware that he was rocking her back and forth, humming softly. When she started to wipe her nose on her sleeve, he handed her a cleansing cloth instead.  
"My name is Lynn."  
"It is my pleasure to meet you Matara Lynn."  
"I can't imagine how much pleasure it would be to have a strange woman snot all over you." Lynn laughed.  
Cluvat only smiled. "You forget how much it pleases us Imdikos to comfort and nurture someone. With no wish for a Matara, and no hope of children, you have given me a gift more precious than gold. I may spend a lifetime and never have someone trust me to care for them as you just have."  
"What of your clan? Surely a gorgeous specimen of such as yourself is not alone."  
"Oh yes. I have a clan. A strong demanding Dramok and a very intense Nobek who is a little prone to dark moods. Now I would like to you picture, if you can, one of them allowing me to hold him in my lap and coddle him as I have just done with you."

Lynn though a moment and them burst out laughing. "You have a point."

Lynn crawled off of his lap and went back to her cushion. "Still, I am grateful for your kindness."

"Would you like to talk of what has you so upset, Matara?"

"Oh, I am just a fickle mess." Lynn sighed. "Are you familiar with the Lottery?"

"Yes. Earther Mataras have two years to consider canidates for clanhood. We didn't apply for consideration. All of us prefer sex with other men. Even if we did not, we are not high enough status to compete with the clans that are applying."

"Do you know what happens to Mataras at the end of two years if they have not chosen a clan?" Lynn asked.

  
"I believe they are supposed to be sent to Earther colonies, but as far as I know, no Earther Matara has ever reached that deadline. Which is a good thing. As repressed as Earthers are, I can't imagine that life would be very comfortable on a colony for a lone Matara. Especially if the other Earthers knew she had been intimate with Kalquorians."

Lynn started sobbing again.

"Oh Matara, I am so sorry! What did I say?"  
 

Lynn blew her nose. "I've been in the lottery for 22 months Cluvat! I only have two more months before I will be deported!"


	3. Matara Jane Doe

Dr. Conyod was sitting at his desk when Clan Vermaun entered his office. He stood, beaming a smile and clapped his hands together.  
“Vermaun! I am so glad you came. And you brought your clan mates with you! Oh don't look so surprised. Did you really think I would invite you into the secure facility for troubled Mataras without the most thorough of background searches? Please, have a seat.”  
Vermaun coughed as he sat across the desk from the doctor. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. And I don't blame you certainly. It's just that we haven't been recognized as clan mates outside our home for over 30 years. It is.... unfamiliar.”  
“I am glad this topic is the first we broach.” Conyod sighed. “I have a special situation in which I require your help, but before I can even discuss the matter with you. I have to interrogate you on your personal life. I know it will feel like an intrusion into your privacy. But I assure you that I am not simply trying to satisfy my curiosity.”  
Vermaun looked to Hartob and Pleekah. Hartob stoney expression was completely inscrutable, but Pleekah offered a subtle nod of assent.  
“Very well, Conyod. I know the work you do and how important it is. We will answer your questions, only if you assure us that this interview will remain confidential.” Vermaun spoke firmly. “And I also insist that you take no notes during the interview.”  
“I see.” Conyod put down his stylus. “You have my word.”  
Hartob nodded and uncrossed his arms.  
“My first question is obvious. According to the research we found, you three formed a clan almost 50 years ago. Unlike many clans, you came together simultaneously, almost suddenly if Pleekah's Imdiko father, Udehko is to be believed, having had no prior relationship with each other and no mutual acquaintances...” Pleekah sucked his breath through his teeth and Hartob shifted in his seat.  
“Conyod,” Vermaun interrupted. “If you are going to ask us how we met, I will not answer. I have never answered that question, even when posed by my parent clan. If your favor is dependent on that knowledge then you can find your help somewhere else.”  
“Don't worry,” Conyod raised one hand in a soothing gesture. “I assumed that you would feel that way, since Udehko tried to get me to promise to tell him the story if I got it out of you. No, whatever circumstances brought you three together are irrelevant at this point. My question is,” Conyod paused. “Why are you so secretive about your clan-hood?”  
Vermaun relaxed. “You have asked the easy question, my friend. You know that we all three work in the pleasure house, I'm sure. Many men would be uncomfortable hiring one of us if our relationship were known. I decided to keep it a secret so as not to limit our client base.”  
“You both agree with your Dramok's decision?”  
Hartob again offered his terse nod, but Pleekah shook his head.  
“I don't agree.” Pleekah looked at Vermaun. “But I follow my Dramok's instruction.”  
“You don't agree?”Conyod asked  
“What do you mean you don't agree?” Vermaun asked in at the same time.  
Pleekah shrugged his shoulders. “I don't. I think that my clients and Hartob's clients would want our service whether or not they knew we were clanned. It is uncommon for clanned men to have sex with those not in their clan, but it is not unheard of.”  
“It's scandal when it does!” Vermaun interrupted.  
“No,” Pleekah continued. “The scandal occurs when the affairs are discovered and the clan mates seek revenge. I think if it was known that we are a clan, but that our service in the pleasure house is acceptable, then it would not scare clients away. If anything, I believe that you would find yourself frequently requested, my Dramok. By Imdikos who need to submit to a firm leader but are not ready to seek out clan mates.”  
“What do you mean?” Conyod leaned over the desk.  
“For personal reasons, I limit my clients to Imdikos and Hartob limits his to Nobeks. This fits our personal preference and has the side benefit of avoiding awkward romantic entanglements. No one seeking our service has any desire to clan with us. My Dramok rarely serves anyone.”  
“Your Dramok... serve?” Conyod looked confused.  
“You are wrong, Pleekah. I serve everyone.” Vermaun said quietly. Conyod looked completely dumbfounded.  
“I know my Dramok. You find your service in organizing and running the club and in caring for Hartob and myself.” Pleekah placed a graceful hand on Vermaun's arm. “But it is not enough for you. Hartob and I both know that.”  
“Our beautiful Imdiko is right, Vermaun.” Hartob broke his silence. “You need more.”  
“Vermaun,” Conyod cleared his throat. “Were you misclassified?”  
Hartob snorted and Pleekah chuckled. Vermaun smiled.  
“You entertain my clan mates with that question because I am very controlling and somewhat overbearing. But you are not very far off of the mark. I am closer to a dual classification. I have very strong Imdiko tendencies.” Vermaun glanced questioningly at Hartob who nodded his consent. “As does my Nobek.”  
“My parent clan believed, happily, that I was an Imdiko until I hit the age of 5.” Hartob grunted. “Then my Nobek nature raised it's brutal head.” Pleekah stood from his chair and sat in the lap of his Nobek, draping his arms around his wide shoulders.  
“I love your Nobek nature.” Pleekah said. “You probably would have been pure Nobek if they hadn't named you for the Imdiko Emperor from the First Clan.”  
Hartob smiled. “Yes, that must be the reason.”  
“You see now why I was so insistent on confidentiality.”  
“If you are worried about someone challenging your classification, you can set your mind at ease.” Conyod assured Vermaun. “In this day and age, the classification of breeds exists largely to produce stable, functional clans that can provide for a Matara's diverse needs. Too many leaders, too many protectors, too many caretakers... It usually doesn't create a happy clan. Such challenges of classification, if they occur at all, usually occur when men are still young and untried. You have proven already that you are stable and functional as a clan.” Conyod said. “You are so well suited that I would love to hear the story that brought you three together.”  
“Suffice to say that a moment of chance changed all of our lives for the better.” Vermaun smiled. “I didn't know that my Imdiko had a different opinion on the secrecy of our clan. Having now heard it, I don't know if I will change my decision. It seems a terrible chance to take with little promise of reward. I understand the need to serve and would not risk denying my clan mates their life work. Does our answer satisfy you?”  
“It does for that question,” Conyod nodded, “but I have one more. “You are wealthy enough to qualify, why didn't you elect to enter the lottery for Earther Mataras?”  
“Again, an easy question. Especially now that you know so much about us.” The smile dimmed on Vermaun's face. “We are an unusual clan. Not one of us, not even our precious Imdiko, is typical of our breed. We decided long ago not to seek out one of own Mataras. We would not be the men she would expect us to be. You know Kalquorian men are usually very dominant. We three are not. Why risk our exposure and her unhappiness? When enlistment for the lottery was announced, we didn't even discuss it. We wouldn't expect a Matara from Kalquor to understand us. Why would we think a Matara from another planet could? Especially one from Earth?”  
“So you have no prejudices against Earther Matara's? No qualms against the intermingling of our species?”  
“None, what so ever!” Vermaun looked indignant. “Have we not made your own Matara Rachel feel welcome in the pleasure house?”  
“Yes, you have. ” Conyod soothed. “I still needed to ask. And what of you Hartob? Pleekah?”  
“I can assure you that no one in our clan has any problem with Earther Mataras, Dr. Conyod.” Pleekah answered.  
“As a matter of fact,” Hartob added. “After Matara Rachel's visit, many Earther Matara's have visited the pleasure house. Most just to observe, but a few have graced our house with their beauty. We hold the honor of being the only pleasure house on the planet with regular Matara attendance. We have filed papers to have the name changed to The Matara's House.”  
“I had no idea!” Conyod chuckled. “If word gets out about that it will be standing room only for you.”  
“Very true, my friend.” Vermaun agreed. “So now, have we answered your questions appropriately? Can you tell me what it is we could help you with?”  
Conyod turned somber. “It is better that I show you.”  
Conyod activated the vid on his desk and turned it so that all three could see. On the vid was a blond haired Earther Matara sitting on a sleep mat next to a wall. Her hair was pulled back into a single braid. She was completely naked. She was so thin her ribs were visible and her hips protruded sharply from under her skin. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She wore hovercuffs on her wrists. It appeared as if she were attempting to lean against the wall but the cuffs prevented her from doing so. Her face was red and dripped sweat from her exertions against the cuffs. Tears streamed from her eyes as she mumbled incoherently. As they watched, she bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to cause blood to drip down her chin. Pleekah gasped.  
“Go ahead and sedate her again.” Conyod spoke into the comm. “Give her the evening meal while she is sedated.”  
On the screen, the Matara started screaming as her cuffs drew her arms as far away from her body as possible. An older Imdiko came into view and her screams turned into snarls of rage. The Matara did her best to bite and scratch at the Imdiko, the blood from her lip splattering across her breasts. Staying out of her reach, the Imdiko administered an injection in her thigh. She roared her frustration before slowly sinking into unconsciousness.  
Pleekah's sob echoed through the office. He was still in Hartob's lap. Hartob ran a gentle hand down the Imdiko's hair but his face mirrored the pain in Pleekah's expression.  
“Dr. Conyod! Why is that Matara being treated so horribly!” Vermaun almost yelled.  
“Vermaun, I assure you that we have no choice. She is a danger to herself and to others. What you witnessed was her attempting to pound her head against the wall. Left to her own devices, she will do so repeatedly until she is bloody and unconscious. At first we placed her in a room where the walls and floor were covered in soft padding, thinking she could not harm herself there. But then she still hit the wall with such force I was worried about cranial swelling. We use the hovercuffs to minimize the damage she can inflict on herself.” Conyod sighed.  
On the vid, the Imdiko was joined by two others who assisted him in cleaning the Matara and dressing her wounds.  
“She will not tolerate clothing. She will not eat. She will not drink. She will not sleep unless sedated. Whenever she sees men she becomes extremely physically violent. She has wounded more than one caretaker. When she sees other Matara's she simply cries inconsolably.” One of the men on the vid gently guided a tube down her throat. “Now she is being forced fed her evening meal. She is loosing weight at a steady pace because we can not keep up with her caloric requirements this way. She defecates and urinates on herself without even seeming to notice.” Conyod's voice broke. “I want to help her, but I can't even get through to her.”  
“What is wrong with her?” Vermaun's voice was a whisper.  
“Nothing.” Conyod laughed. “At least physically. Not anymore.”  
“She was found on Earth. In a basement... In a cage.” Conyod wiped his eyes. “Scars on her back showed that she had been whipped and cut repeatedly. Examination of her genitals revealed that she had been brutally raped. Repeatedly. There was evidence of several healed broken bones. We also found that she had received some sort of surgery to prevent conception. Her fallopian tubes had been cut. The massive amount of scar tissue in the area makes me think that the surgery was not performed by a trained surgeon. She was found lying in her own filth nearly dead from starvation and septicemia. She spent the entire trip here in a medically induced coma.”  
“We were able to heal all of the physical damage her body sustained. And our neuroscientists assure me that there is nothing wrong with her brain. Whatever is wrong with her is purely psychological.” Conyod looked at the vid with anguish. “I just don't know how to fix it.”  
“What is going to happen to her?” Pleekah had risen and was now kneeling in front of the vid.  
“She is being considered for a mind wipe. It will erase every memory she ever had of who she is. She will be a blank slate, like an infant. She will have to learn everything all over again.” Conyod explained. “It is a very controversial procedure and one I am not very fond of. But it is our last resort.”  
“How can we help, my friend?” Vermaun asked.  
“I really don't want to perform a mind wipe. The thought horrifies me. What if she has memories of a mother, a friend, a child even? What if underneath this nightmare she is living in, she has a beautiful collection of memories that make her who she is? What right to we have to take that from her?”  
“Dr. Conyod,” Hartob spoke up. “Even I can see. She can not be sustained like this for much longer.”  
“Yes, I know.” Conyod agreed. “And I have one last therapy I would like to try before I agreed to the mind wipe.”  
Pleekah looked at Conyod questioningly.  
“My Rachel, who was tortured by the Earther government, thinks that she is full of anger. That she won't be able to let go of her rage and feel any other emotion until she makes someone pay for what was done to her.” Conyod sighed. “That my friends, is where you come in.”  
“I'll be glad to do it.” Pleekah quickly asserted.  
“No, you won't.” Vermaun calmly countered.  
“My Dramok! We have to help!” Pleekah argued.  
“Yes, but not at the cost of your sanity.”  
“I can take it Vermaun.” Pleekah looked to be near tears again. “You know I can take it.”  
“Sweet Imdiko. You can take an immense amount of pain. You can take it and still find pleasure in it. This I do know.” Vermaun agreed.  
“This is different, Pleekah.” Hartob spoke gently. “This will be punches and kicks, and nails and teeth, and frustration and rage. This will be blood and tears and bruises. There will be no pleasure here, my beautiful Imdiko. Not for anyone. There will only be anger and hate and brutality. This is not for you, my gentle Pleekah. This is for me.”


	4. Clan Wildu and Matara Jane Doe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for all the updating! I have finally broken down and purchased Word. I will stop trying to compose directly on the website. Also, you will hopefully get fewer spelling mistakes :). Please let me know any you find!

Matara Lynn accepted a cleansing cloth from Imdiko Cluvat.  
"Poor Matara." Cluvat reached over to gently stroke her hair. "Are there no clans that please you?"  
"On the contrary Imdiko. They all do!" Lynn blew her nose. "At least they do, at first." She shook her head. "Then not so much." She placed her face in her hands. "I'm going to have to choose one soon."  
"Let me take you home, Matara." Imdiko Cluvat lifted her chin. "Let me take you to my home. My work here is done for today. I can make you a relaxing tea and tell you ridiculous stories about my Nobek and Dramok. It will give your poor mind a break from this tension."  
"Okay," Lynn smiled. "Thank you."  
"Besides," Cluvat's eyes widened. "I don't think it is safe to let you leave this room without an escort! Those Nobeks were almost frothing at the mouth!"  
"They weren't the only ones frothing, Cluvat, but it wasn't at my mouth!"  
Cluvat chuckled. "I can't wait for the clan to meet you, Matara!"

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Nobek Hartob knelt on the floor. His back was bare but he retained the rhonka hide pants  
He watched the Matara strain against her bonds towards him, snarling and hissing. She so obviously meant him harm that he had to resist his Nobek urge to hiss back at her.  
He lay the flogger that Vermaun had insisted they provide on the floor between them. The flogger was small and made of soft leather. If the Matara chose to beat him with it, she would surely wear her arm out long before she even reddened his skin.   
The Nobek doubted she would use it anyway. Her anger was so primal he was certain that only claws and teeth would do. Nevertheless he didn't argue with Vermaun. Perhaps if she perceived it was a weapon, she would use it. He would survive this with much fewer scars if she did.  
Defying every Nobek instinct screaming in his head, he slowly turned his back on the raging Matara. Perhaps she would focus on the most readily available target. He planned to use his hands only to protect his vulnerable eyes.   
Hartob took a few deep breaths and then looked to where he knew the vid recorder was located. He indicated his readiness with a nod. In the observation room on the other side of the door, Dr. Conyod turned to Vermaun for confirmation. The Dramok gave a terse nod. Dr. Conyod released the hover cuffs.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Matara Lynn snuggled down into the soft cushions. Cluvat had done exactly as promised. Evidently the Imdiko had made it his mission in life to drive his Clan crazy. She nearly snorted tea out of her nose when Cluvat recounted his latest prank. She was not familiar with the food items he mentioned, but it sounded like the equivalent of filling donuts with mustard instead of jelly and setting a plate of them with a "Don't touch" sign on the counter.  
When the Imdiko produced a vid of the two unsuspecting Kalquorians sneaking the "treats" from the plate and then having near seizures when they bit into the pastries, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
She had just managed to get herself under control when the entry door opened and said Kalquorians strode into the room. She and Cluvat looked at each other briefly before both of them collapsed in a fit of giggles.  
"I see out Cluvat has made a new friend." The wry voice of the Dramok did nothing for Lynn's self-control.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Hartob flinched at the sound of the Matara hitting the ground. The urge to turn and comfort her was nearly overwhelming. He resisted. Dr. Conyod had stressed that any motion toward her would feel threatening in her current state.   
He took a deep steadying breath. The Matara was panting behind him. Her breaths coming more and more rapidly. Instead of focusing inward, as he had been taught to do, the Nobek’s focus was riveted on the woman behind him. Unconsciously, his breath sped to match her pace and his heart rate accelerated.  
The urge to turn and fight was as surprising as it was hard to resist. Hartob pushed his hands firmly in his lap.   
He could control his hands but he could not reign in his growing panic. He couldn’t stop his heart from trying to beat its way out of his chest.   
And he couldn’t stop himself from screaming when the Matara screamed and lunged for him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Matara Lynn couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her. The resulting wave of laughter at her own rudeness crippled her. Imdiko Cluvat kept chuckling, even as he abandoned her side to welcome his clanmates home with an embrace. Several snorts, gasps and sniffs later, Lynn finally found her composure.  
“Dramok Wildu, Nobek Potel, This delightful creature is Matara Lynn. I had the pleasure of making her acquaintance today at the pleasure house.” A warm slow grin spread across the Imdiko’s face.  
“Hi,” she smiled. “I am very sorry.” She coughed. “And I am very glad to meet you.” Lynn put her hand out to shake.   
The welcome she received was less than warm. She noticed as each man shook her hand and mumbled pleasantries, their unhappy and somewhat uncertain gaze kept shifting between the Imdiko and her.   
“Oh my!” Lynn slapped her hand over her face. “Not that!” She turned to Cluvat, “They think we…”  
Cluvat slowly shook his head. “I have a lot to teach you, Matara. You just ruined one of my best pranks yet!”  
The tension eased from the shoulders of both Kalquorians as they realized the joke. The Dramok even chuckled, but Nobek Potel scowled at the Imdiko. “I hope you realize that you will be punished for that Cluvat.”  
“Realize?” Cluvat smirked. “I’m counting on it!”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

All ten of the Matara’s fingernails dug into Nobek’s shoulders. She scraped them down his back in bright searing lines of pain. Hartob was certain she drew blood.   
The Nobek instantly relaxed. The anticipation of her attack was far worse than the reality, no matter how painful and violent it was. And pain really was an old friend. Snarling and grunting, she repeated the clawing over and over. Hartob spread his shoulders and leaned back the tiniest bit, his subconscious giving her the biggest possible canvas he could. He felt blood trickling down the back of his pants.  
He gasped when the Matara buried her teeth in his back. The pain was sharps, startling, and brief. He heard her spitting his blood out on to the floor, her aversion to the taste momentarily overriding her rage.  
It was a good thing. Hartob really had no desire to loose chunks of his flesh.   
It also proved that her rage was not completely mindless. Someone was home in the poor Matara’s head. A small smile graced his lips.  
With a shriek, she pummeled her small fists against his back.   
She was so weak and she was not trained to fight. If his back was not already raw and bleeding, Hartob suspected he would not even feel her blows. It might feel like a gentle massage. If every nerve of his traumatized skin wasn’t already screaming, he might even enjoy it.  
If…  
As it was, the pain made him clench his teeth. When she clasped her hands together and hammered against him, each blow drove a little gasp from him. 

The Matara grunted loudly with each hammer against him. As the pounding continued, her grunts turned into sobs. Then the sobs became full-fledged crying punctuated with grunting yells as she struck him.

Silent tears tracked down the Nobek’s face.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Matara Lynn dropped down on the floor cushion. “That was simply delicious, Cluvat! You simply must give me the recipe.”

Cluvat chuckled. “Instead, I’ll have to give you the menu. It’s leftovers from our meal last night.”

“That’s quite a few leftovers!”

Dramok Wildu sighed as he sat on the cushion across from her. “Since we had to wait several months for our reservations, we ordered extra meals.”

“Ah,” Lynn looked chagrined. “I’m afraid I know the restaurant you went to. You should have saved that deliciousness for yourself. I’ve had the pleasure of eating Imdiko Vax’s cooking several times over the past year. Clans often take Mataras they are courting there if they can get the reservation in time.” Lynn barked out a humorless laugh. “I even broke it off with one clan there. I should have done it before that night. Soon enough they could have used the reservation with the next Matara.”

Cluvat sat on the cushion beside her and wrapped an arm around her back. He gave her a squeeze. “I’m sure they found someone to be happy with Matara Lynn.”

Lynn smiled up at him. She was surprised he knew it was guilt heavy in her heart. Each clan only got six chances to win a Matara before they are kicked out of the lottery. Matara got as many as they liked. Lynn figured every clan that had courted her wasted a valuable opportunity.

“Do you know that I am ‘black-listed’?” Matara Lynn shrugged. “Well sort of. When you vet the clan, you can see how many times they have failed to clan a Matara. And when the clans do the same they can see how many clans the Matara has turned down before they make the offer to court. I don’t have as many gentleman callers knocking at my door as I did at the beginning. And when I do, it is usually hopeful new entrants that are making their first choice. Knights in shining armor fully certain that they can be the ones to win my heart.” Lynn leaned against Cluvat and the Imdiko patted her shoulder.

Lynn jerked her head up. “Or I get clans like this last one, total jerks who have already burned through five Mataras. I wind up with them because other women are smart enough to realize with that many failures, something must be wrong with the clan.” She leaned her head against the Imdiko’s shoulder.

Nobek Potel sat next to the Dramok. “Matara, would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

Cluvat grinned. “I didn’t warn her that you are a psychologist, my Nobek.” Lynn raised her head.

“I’m not, not really,” the Nobek shifted. “I am a trainer at a camp for young Nobeks. We all receive some training with psychological counseling. My particular specialty, in addition to my regular duties, is helping young Nobeks determine if they are suited for life with a clan.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know Nobeks are the most numerous. We are warriors, fierce and protective, prone to fighting and violence,” he paused. “No, not prone, excited by, driven by. And not all Nobeks are the same.” He shook his head. “In order to live in a clan, a Nobek must be capable of tenderness, compromise, and self-determination. And they must be able to thrive in an environment where these characteristics are called upon more frequently than any other.” Potel chuckled. “I actually become more of a vocational counselor, because those Nobeks that determine they are not suited for clan life usually choose the military.”

“Do you think it would apply to me? Obviously, I’m not a Nobek.”

“Obviously,” Potel replied drily. “But a large portion of the counseling is helping the young Nobek determine his own wants and needs first. Needs are the best motivator for behavior. Those Nobeks who need the intimacy of a clan usually find that they are sufficiently motivated to develop the characteristics to do so.” Potel leaned in and placed his hand on hers. “That is the part of the counselling that I think will help you. 

“This is really why I brought you home,” Cluvat whispered to her. 

Lynn sighed. She looked at the faces of the three Kalquorians, total strangers before today willing to spend part of their happy lives just to help her. “Ok, I’ll do it.” She smiled. “I just hope you are right.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Hartob quietly sobbed as the assault slowed. It seemed the less frequent the blows came the more the Matara cried. With one last weak and off target strike, it ended. Hartob quietly kneeled as the Matara cried behind him, uncertain of what to do now. He gasped when she fell against his back, her face pressed against his tormented skin and her arm draped akimbo across his shoulders. 

The urge to comfort her rose up again. He sat there, resisting as she quietly sobbed against him. Finally, he could take it no longer.

He turned, and in one quick motion, was seated lotus style on the floor, with her in his lap. He had turned so quickly that she didn’t at first have time to react. Her arms lay draped around his neck. She startled weakly, but when he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her to his chest, she slumped against him again. 

He rocked her as she cried, one hand reaching up to stroke her head.

She quieted as he held her. Her breathing slowed and turned into soft snores. Hartob looked up toward the camera. 

Moments later, the door opened and two Imdiko in medical dress entered the room. The Matara didn’t waken. She shifted in her sleep when the taller of the two took her from his arms. Hartob allowed the other to help him to his feet as he watched the taller Imdiko lay her on the sleeping mat. The Imdiko took a warm cleansing cloth and began to wash Hartob’s blood from her face. 

She woke then and began to panic, terror making her eyes flare wide. Hartob rushed over and took the cleansing cloth from the Imdiko. With the other hand he gestured for the two to step back.

The Matara settled a bit once the Imdikos were at least 10 feet away, but her wide eyes never left them. Hartob took the cleansing cloth and resumed washing her face. Since she permitted it, he used more cloths and cleaned as much of her as he could easily reach.   
He and she both were startled when the door opened again. Then the familiar mouthwatering scent of rhonka and pilchok reached him. The shorter of the two Imdiko turned and received a tray from someone behind him. The door closed and the Imdiko gestured to Hartob to come take the tray. 

The Matara made a high pitched keening noise when Hartob stood and walked over to the Imdikos. She abruptly stopped when he turned with the tray to walk back to the sleeping mat. 

He kneeled beside her holding the bowl. Her eyes darted between him and the Imdikos. Hartob gestured for them to leave. When they complied, she calmed a little, but she still watched him nervously.

With deliberate movements, Hartob took a piece of pilchok from the bowl and placed it in his mouth. He moaned as he chewed and swallowed. He repeated the process with a piece of rhonka meat. The Matara had stopped watching Hartob and was instead watching the food as it traveled from the bowl to his mouth. After swallowing a third piece with flare, he took a piece from the bowl and offered it to the Matara.

She backed up and began making that high pitched keening noise again. Hartob drew his hand away and the keening turned into a whimper. Hartob attempted to hand her the bowl and she started keening again. When he pulled the bowl away, she whimpered again. 

Hartob tried to hand feed her again with the same result. The door opened and the shorter Imdiko stepped inside. He held something strange up in his hand. After a minute, Hartob recognized it as an Earther spoon. With a smile and a nod, he sat the bowl on the ground and walked over to retrieve it from the Imdiko. 

He didn’t make even halfway when he heard movement behind him. He turned to find the Matara on her hands and knees, face buried in the bowl, happily eating.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, we are nearly done,” Nobek Potel scribbled a note on his pad. “The next part may embarrass you a bit, but I want to assure you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I have found this entire process embarrassing, so go ahead. It can’t be much worse,” Lynn snorted.

“Okay then. Earlier Cluvat mentioned that there was a scene at the club that had you nearly enthralled.” 

Lynn felt the blush spread up her face. “Okay, maybe it can be more embarrassing.”

“We don’t have to go into much detail. I just want to know. Which participant did you find more attractive, the Dramok, or the Imdiko?”

“Well they were both gorgeous, most of you Kalquorians are!”

“Yes, but of the two in that playroom, which one was more attractive to you? Concentrate, this is important.” 

Lynn thought a minute. She could remember in detail the way the beautiful Imdiko struggled, the way his penis wept on the floor. As for the other male, she only had fuzzy details.

“Actually, I barely remember what the Dramok looked like. I must have been staring at the Imdiko.”

Potel winced. “Do you remember what you were thinking? Or how you felt?”

Lynn gulped. “To be totally blunt,” she paused. “I couldn’t tell if I wanted the Dramok to make him suffer more, or ram into him hard and fast enough to hurt. Both scenarios kept playing in my head as I watched.”

Potel hung his head.

“Is that bad?” Lynn was surprised. She would never have imagined a Kalquorian would be judgmental about sex.

“Potel!” Cluvat chimed in from beside her. “What is the big deal?”

“No, no,” Potel looked over at Wildu. The Dramok’s eyes were full of sympathy. “It’s not bad, in and of itself.”

“No,” Wildu agreed. “It’s not bad at all. But it explains why you’ve had such a hard time finding a clan to your liking.”

“Indeed,” Potel nodded. “First, let me say, if you were a Nobek assigned to my camp, I would immediately have you evaluated for reclassification and be totally astounded someone could have misclassified you in the first part. If you were a Kalquorian male, my dear, it would be apparent to everyone that you are a Dramok.”

Cluvat gasped and Wildu nodded.

“Let me guess,” Potel continued. “In most of the clans, it was the… overbearing… controlling… demanding… personality traits of the clanmates that you didn’t like. At first, when they were getting to know you, you loved the attention. But once any clanmate tried to exert any authority over you, you started to think that maybe they weren’t so wonderful.”

“Oooo!” Lynn interjected. “And don’t try to tell them to back off either. ‘Little Matara, it’s our job to take care of you. You just do what we say and everything will be fine.’”

Potel chuckled. “And the more you tried to resist their control, the more they would try to exert it. Yes I know. Kalquorian males believe that a Matara needs a firm leader to be happy. Any resistance you gave was just inviting them to prove how firm a leader they could be for you.”

“It’s not really funny, you know.” Lynn stuck out her lip.

“It is and it isn’t.” Potel agreed. “And it gets even worse for you I’m afraid.” Potel looked to his Dramok. “Wildu?”

Wildu coughed into his fist. “Yes, well. It also appears that you are… a sadist.”

“A sadist!” Cluvat shrieked before collapsing to the floor in laughter. Lynn elbowed him in the ribs to no avail.

“Let me ask you something, Lynn.” Wildu ignored the laughing Imdiko. “Have you ever been in a situation with a male where he described some torturous thing he was going to do to you and you found yourself becoming very excited by the idea, only to discover when he actually does it that you don’t like it at all and wish it would stop?”

Lynn covered her face with her hands. “Every time.”

Cluvat sat up. “Oh, Matara!”

Wildu nodded. “And that is another thing that will make it difficult for you to find a clan that is a match to you.”

Lynn leaned against Cluvat. “What shall I do? I won’t submit to a controlling clan for the rest of my life and I don’t want to be shipped off to an Earther colony.”

Wildu patted her hand. “I am afraid your only choice is to become pregnant. You can try to get pregnant before your time is up or you can agree to have one of your already fertilized ova implanted. The mother of a Kalquorian citizen is as good as a citizen.”

“You’re right.” Lynn sniffed and nodded. “I don’t want to have a child right now, but it’s the only choice I have left.”

Cluvat held her against him. “I just had the best idea! If you have to get pregnant anyway, you might as well have fun. Instead of ploughing through those lottery snobs and putting up with their nonsense just to get laid. Why not do it at the club? I am certain Dramok Vermaun could set up a scene for you where you get to explore your supposed Dramok-ish and sadistic tendencies. He has set up stranger scenes than that, I know.”

“Oh gosh, it has been forever since I’ve been laid!” Lynn thought a minute. “You’re on. Time to scratch plan ‘Find a Clan’ and begin plan ‘Get Knocked Up the Fun Way’.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Nobek Hartob, Dramok Vermaun, Imdiko Pleekah and Dr. Conyod stood watching the vid in silence. The shorter Imdiko stood behind Hartob, cleaning and dressing the wounds on his back. Occasionally, Hartob’s face would twitch, but he made no sounds.

“I knew she was kept in a cage, but I never imagined that she was treated like an animal.” Dr. Conyod’s voice betrayed his anguish. On the vid, the Matara was on her hands and knees drinking from the water bowl they had provided. “Her reaction to accepting food any other way is so extreme. She must have been severely beaten for doing so.”

He lapsed into silence again. The Imdiko finished his task. Gently he squeezed an undamaged portion of Hartob’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before leaving the room.

The Matara picked up a cleansing cloth that had been left on the floor and wiped her face with it. While they watched, she crawled over to her sleep mat and lay down. 

Dr. Conyod turned off the vid. When he turned to Hartob, there were unshed tears in his eyes. “After all you have suffered today, I can’t believe I am about to ask you this, Nobek. Can you come back tomorrow?”

Hartob turned to his Dramok. Vermaun shifted and looked at the floor. He glanced at the blank vid and then turned back to Hartob. With a gentle nod, he gave his approval.

“Of course, Dr. Conyod.”


	5. Chapter 5

Matara Lynn shifted nervously, “You know, in the light of morning, this seems like a bad idea.”

“Nonsense, Matara. I don’t have bad ideas.” Cluvat smiled at her. He touched a spot on the wall beside the door to Dramok Vermaun’s office. “Imdiko Cluvat and Matara Lynn requesting an audience with Dramok Vermaun.”

The door opened. Taking her hand, the Imdiko led her inside.

Matara Lynn was surprised by the simple furnishings of the office. Each room in the pleasure house was decorated so ornately, she had imagined the office of the Kalquorian that ran it would be sumptuous. She took a slower glance around and realized that her initial impression was very mistaken. Instead of Spartan, as she’d first thought the décor, it was simply understated. Simple and still luxurious, decorated in creams and warm earth tones, the entire space was designed to put anyone at ease.

As she entered, the Dramok rose from behind his desk and bowed. She nearly jumped. His hair was worn short, so similar to the Earther fashion that at first she had mistaken him for an Earther male. Luckily, he didn’t notice her jolt of shock. He rose from the bow and smiled at her with warm purple Kalquorian eyes. He was older than she expected. He looked like a human man would as he approached forty. You couldn’t see any grey hairs yet, but you wouldn’t have been surprised by them either. He looked… distinguished.

“Greetings Matara Lynn and Imdiko Cluvat,” he gestured to the seat in front of his desk. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” His speech was slow and his accent was thick. Lynn blinked her eyes. He had not yet mastered English to the degree that Cluvat and his clan obviously had. She wondered why Cluvat and company had made the effort to master her language so flawlessly if they had not desired a Matara.

“Greetings Dramok,” Cluvat looked at her expectantly. She shrugged and smiled at him. Cluvat coughed to hide his laughter once he realized she was going to let him do the talking. “I believe my friend, Matara Lynn, is in need of your services.”

Vermaun raised an eyebrow. “And what services would that be?” Lynn blushed. She looked at Cluvat, who smirked at her. “I think that is best described by the Matara herself.” Evidently she was only going to try to let him do all the talking, incorrigible sneak.

The Dramok turned to her with a slight smile and Lynn’s stomach rolled. She felt all the blood drain from her face. Instantly the Dramok’s expression sobered. “Matara, would you like something to eat or drink while you compose your thoughts?”

When she didn’t speak, Cluvat chimed in, “She likes relaxing tea.” Lynn figured the color must have left her face because the humor had left Cluvat’s expression. She bent over and put her head between her knees. She suddenly became afraid that she would faint.

She heard rapid fire Kalquorian spoken in the Dramok’s voice and then answered by Cluvat. The Dramok’s tone was accusatory and Cluvat’s tone was defensive. Vermaun then barked out what sounded like an order.

Moments later the door opened and a lithe figure strode into the room. Lynn looked up to see the most beautiful Kalquorian she’d ever met, carrying a tray with a British style tea service on it. He was tall, taller than most. And his long hair was contained in seemingly hundreds of thin braids. He reminded her of a panther. Sleek, sensuous, and powerful. When he bowed, the vision of him bent over with tears streaming from his eyes danced across her brain. Maybe Cluvat’s clan was right. Lynn was suddenly much more eager to explore this idea.

The little vixen gave her a sly smile as he poured her tea. Somehow, he managed to never once look her in the face, all the while making it perfectly clear that she had his undivided attention. He bowed to her again before sashaying out of the room. Lynn followed his every move. When the door closed behind him, she realized her mouth was hanging open.

She snapped it shut and whipped her head around to find the Dramok smiling happily at her. “You are not the first to be so moved by Imdiko Pleekah. He is quiet the…” the Dramok asked a question in Kalquorian.

“Treasure,” Cluvat provided.

“I’ll say,” Matara Lynn agreed. Both men chuckled.

Lynn took a deep breath. If she had to leave this place, she might as well get all the enjoyment out of it she could.

“I have a predicament, Dramok. It seems that I have emotional and… sexual… needs that run counter to that of Kalquorian males. As a result, I have been unable to find a clan that suits me.” She took a deep breath. “In order to remain on Kalquor, I must get pregnant… again. Instead of allowing yet another unsuitable clan to court me, I have decided to see if the pleasure house can help me get my needs met.” She coughed into her fist. “My need to get pregnant as well as my, um, other needs.” She looked up to meet Vermaun’s eyes.

They were wide. “Are these the services you are asking me to render?”

“Oh! No!” Lynn sputtered. “Well, maybe, I mean… I’m not sure.” The Dramok’s surprised expression changed to one of confusion.

“Okay,” Vermaun smiled. “Perhaps we should discuss these ‘other’ needs you mentioned. I gather that is the reason I am being consulted?” Vermaun looked to Cluvat who nodded.

“Yesterday the Matara consulted with my clanmate. He works with young Nobeks in the training camp. He administered a questionnaire to her that is supposed to help you Nobeks discover if they want—“

“I want to be in charge,” Lynn interrupted. “I want beautiful Kalquorian men on their knees completely at my mercy. I want to hurt them, if I want. I want to use them, if I want. I want to fuck them, if I want.” She looked Vermaun directly in the eyes. “And I want to be the one completely in control. That’s the service you are going to provide. You’re going to give that to me.”

Vermaun’s eyes dilated and his nostrils flared. She saw his throat work as he swallowed. The cinnamon scent of Kalquorian arousal filled the air.

“See Matara! He loves the idea.” Cluvat patted her hand. “I’m sure he can find some Imdiko with a humiliation kink who would love to be dominated by a female.”

A low growl issued from Vermaun’s throat. “The Matara shall have any male she wishes.”

“What?” Cluvat was obviously confused.

“You forget the power of the bite, Imdiko. Also there are restraints and hover cuffs. We have all manner of tools to ensure the Matara has the amount of control she desires.”

“Dramok, Matara Lynn has no bite. And even if she did, she obviously doesn’t have the strength to subdue anyone in order to bite them.”

“No,” the Dramok smiled evilly. “But I do. And any Kalquorian that wants to play with her will voluntarily submit to my bite before they even get close to her.”

“What if I want Imdiko Pleekah?” Lynn tried and failed to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

The Dramok’s evil smile grew wider. “I am sure that can be arranged.”

__________________________________

Nobek Hartob looked at the vid screen on Dr. Conyod’s desk. The Matara lay on her sleeping mat curled in the fetal position with her back facing the camera. Her shoulders shook with gentle sobs.

“As you can see, your intervention has had drastic results.” Dr. Conyod’s voice was soft, soothing.

“This is better?” The Nobek’s hand pressed firmly against his aching heart.

“Yes,” Conyod sighed. “I know it doesn’t seem better. But she is grieving. Any expression of emotion other than rage is an improvement.” The Imdiko leaned forward. “Don’t misunderstand me. She will still feel rage on occasion, justifiable so. I fully expect her to exhibit the same violent destructive behavior again.” He placed a comforting hand on the Nobek’s shoulder. “But as long as she is capable of feeling other emotions, there is still hope that we can reach her.”

Hartob nodded. “As you say, Doctor. What is the plan today?”

“She has behaved like this since she awoke this morning. I am not sure how she will react to you when you go in. She has carefully watched anyone who has entered her room but otherwise she has not reacted. We put food and water in her, um, bowls,” Dr. Conyod face showed disgust at the idea. “But she has not chosen to eat or drink.” Conyod took a deep breath. “It appears that she has soiled her sleeping mat, but we were reluctant to force her off of it.”

Hartob grimaced.

“Yesterday,” Conyod continued. “She allowed you to clean her. I’m hoping that today she will do so again. If you feel she will tolerate it, the second door on the north wall opens to a Plasian style bathing basin. We have caregivers ready to replace her mat with a clean one if you can get her to move from it.” Conyod pulled a strange garment from his desk. “Have you cared for a babe, Nobek?” Hartob shook his head. “I’m not surprise,” Conyod said. “This is a garment that Mataras put on infants until they are able to learn to control their waste. My greatest hope for today is that she lets you, or someone else, put one on her. How good is your English?”

Hartob chuckled, “She might recognize it as English.”

“I’m not even sure that’s what she speaks.” Conyod explained. “It was the dominant language in the area she was found, but certainly not the only one spoken.” Conyod slammed his fist on the desk. “It just occurred to me that she might not even have been taught to speak.”

Hartob gaped at him. The thought was outrageous, but so was the other abuse that he knew she had been subjected to.

“Let’s not assume problems before we find them.” Conyod shook his head. On the vid screen, the Matara rolled over. Her long blond hair had escaped her braid and filth was smeared along her leg.

“I am ready when you are, Dr. Conyod.”

“One more thing,” the doctor stood. “If there is a part of the session today when she allows you to comfort her. I will come in. I plan to sit or stand far enough away that she still feels safe, but close enough that she can hear me clearly and see my face.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Hartob stood and took the garment from the doctor.

As soon as her door opened, the Matara’s frightened eyes fixed on the Nobek. The smell in the room was repulsive, but Hartob could understand the doctor’s reluctance to stress the Matara by moving her. Hartob berated himself for not arriving sooner.

Her eyes were blue, vibrantly so. As he met her gaze, the terror in her eyes changed to only wariness.

He carried with him a large box of self-warming cleansing wipes, the sanitation garment, and the disregarded flogger from the day before. As the Matara observed him, he placed the sanitation wipes and garment where they would be in easy reach. He lay the flogger on the ground near her, stepped away, and kneeled on the ground facing away from her. Only then did he remember to remove his shirt.

The Matara gasped behind him. The marks were healing well and were fast on the way to become boastful scars, but the red angry flesh still resembled ground meat. Hartob wondered if she would be aware that her actions had caused the marks on his back. He hoped that she was, and that she was proud.

The high pitched keening sound arose from the Matara again. The same one she’d used yesterday when she was in great distress. He couldn’t resist the urge to turn and so was facing her when she leapt at him. To his surprise and relief, instead of attacking, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. Hartob was momentarily horrified by the fact that he was now also covered in her filth. She sobbed against him. Pity at the depth of her despair quickly overtook any other emotion in his heart. He let his arms encircle her and petted her soothingly as she cried.

She was so small. Hartob knew that he was a little tall for a Kalquorians, but this tiny Earther woman in his arms made him feel like a giant. His hand engulfed the entire back of her head. No wonder she was so afraid.   


The sobs quieted after a while and Hartob became more aware of the sink of her excrement. He decided to risk the bath. Standing with her in his arms, he walked over to the door the doctor had described.

She raised her head when the door opened. Her blue eyes looked frightened again as she took in the new surroundings. The basin was a good size, about 25 square feet, with a waterfall in the center. There were six other doors that opened into the bathing room. Hartob hoped the good doctor had the sense to seal the others. He kicked off his slippers as he entered the room.

Rather than attempt to convince her to enter the bathing pool on her own, Hartob strode into the water with her in his arms. The water didn’t even reach his waist. He had to sink to his knees to get her in the water. Her legs and arms tightened around him. The water was warm and there was a subtle current that carried the filth away.

For a long time, Hartob just held her, slowly turning in the water. Unaware that he even was doing it, Hartob hummed a tune his mother used to sing to him. The Matara began to relax.

One of the doors opened and the taller of the two Imdikos from yesterday walked in. He carried some folded cloth and a container. She tightened her grip as the Imdiko approached the pool. The Imdiko bowed to the Matara and lay his bounty near the edge of the pool. Once he’d turned and exited the room, Hartob drifted over to that edge to inspect it. He found several drying cloths as well as a change of pants for himself. The container was a foaming conditioning soap. He smiled, hoping that Dr. Conyod would interpret it as thanks.

The Matara had relaxed again as soon as the Imdiko left. Hartob took it as a good sign. Perhaps if he demonstrated bathing on himself, it wouldn’t be so bad when he attempted to bathe her.

Hartob stood. The Matara, who had been holding on loosely, attempted to cling to him. She only succeed in being drug to her feet. Hartob remained standing next to the Matara in the water, her feet firmly on the ground, bent over severely so her little arms could reach around his neck. When he felt she had had enough time to adjust, he gently disengaged her arms from around his neck and stepped back. The Matara stood there, eyes shifting nervously between him and the door the Imdiko had arrived through. She attempted to close the distance between them, but Hartob put his hand on her chest to stop her. When she looked imploringly in his eyes, he shook his head and said “No.” She whimpered quietly but didn’t try again when he removed his hand.

Satisfied she would remain where she was, he reached down and unfastened his now ruined rhonka hide breeches. When he pulled them down the Matara made that keening sound again. He looked up at her and was stunned by the look of hurt and betrayal on her face. He realized what she thought was going to happen and quickly bent over to pull them up. The sodden leather was completely uncooperative. He looked up at the keening Matara, only to find her bent over the side of the pool sobbing away. Her backside was bare and pushed out like a female ready for sex, but it was obvious from the rest of her behavior that she was anything but.

“Go ahead and remove them,” Dr. Conyod voice echoed in the room. Hartob look for him, but then realized he must be transmitting audio. “Once your nude, continue with the bath. Let her realized that you will not abuse her no matter what your state of dress.”

Hartob nodded and then swallowed. He removed the pants. Picking them up, he let them drop on the tile floor with a wet ‘schlop’. The Matara’s sobs intensified when she heard the sound, but she pushed her rear out further.

“This position must be a conditioned response. Despite appearances, she is not choosing to have sex with you.” Dr. Conyod’s voice was firm. Hartob glared at the corners of the room, wearing his best ‘I realize that, you idiot’ expression. Dr. Conyod’s soft chuckle was barely audible. Hartob walked over to where the Matara was bent over the edge of the basin. He stood beside her and waited.

He stood that way for a few minutes. When her crying decreased a bit, he reached over and tapped her on the shoulder. Her sobs returned in force. Hartob waited for another lull before attempting a shoulder tap, again. This time the Matara looked at his face. He slowly shook his head and said “No.”

The Matara launched herself at him. Hartob barely had time to cover his face before she rained blows on his head, shoulders, and chest. Her hands were open and the wet slaps only stung. Hartob permitted her to vent her anger. When the barrage ended, Hartob peeked at her by parting his fingers. She slapped his arm, half-heartedly and he quickly closed his fingers. He peeked again and again she slapped him. He peeked again, but covered his eyes before she could slap him.

He did a quick peek and cover again. This time he swore, the corners of her mouth turned up a little bit. Inspired, he continued the peeking game until he saw a real smile on her face. Grinning himself, he lowered his hands.

The Matara remained that way for a moment before the smile faded to her normally wary expression. Hartob nodded to her. He reached his hand up and undid his long braid. Dropping to his knees, he bent his head back until his hair was completely submersed in the water. Rising again, he took the container of foaming cleanser, scooped out a portion, and worked it through his hair. When he had lathered it in its entirety, he scooted to the waterfall and leaned his head back under the flow. Rising, he shook the water from his eyes and smiled at her.

Slowly and deliberately, he approached her. She didn’t flinch when he let loose her braid. With gentle pushes, he got her to lower herself in the water enough to wet her hair. Near where she was, there were stairs for entering the basin. He sat on one and encouraged her to sit between his legs. Taking the foaming cleanser, he gently worked it into her hair. When he massaged her scalp, she moaned and leaned back against him. He had to lean back himself to keep her scalp in reach.

She purred as he worked her scalp in small circles. Laid fully back against him, all the tension from her body evaporated. He scooped water from the basin in his hand and rinse her hair. She enjoyed the experience so much he didn’t want it to end. He took a big handful of the cleanser and used it to massage her neck. She groaned in response, but the cleanser washed away almost as soon as he touched skin. He wrapped an arm around her and lifted them up to the next stair. Here the water only came to her hips.

Hartob swept her hair to over the front of her shoulder and scooped another large handful of cleanser. Now he was able to access her neck and shoulders completely. He used both hands to work her knotted tight muscles into jelly. She was vocal in her appreciation, pushing back into every rub of his hands. He worked all the muscles he could reach.

She flopped back against his chest, her eyes closed in bliss, and her breaths coming through softly parted lips. It wasn’t until that moment he realized he had a female pressed against his body. His cocks hardened, trapped between them.

The second his erections pressed against her, she stilled and her tension returned. Her previously blissfully closed eyes flew open and she watched him warily.

Hartob scooped out some more cleanser and reached his arms around her. She tensed when his hands met in front of her. When he split the cleanser in his palms and went to work on her shoulders, she relaxed again.

Moving in long strokes, he rubbed from her shoulders up, working his thumbs into the cords of her neck. Soon she was putty again, moaning loudly as he worked. He was glad for she enjoyed herself. But each time she’d moan, he felt the vibration in his cocks. It was agonizing.

Moving along her collar bone, he was able to get a pectoral massage in as well. He watched carefully, making sure that he didn’t accidentally touch her breasts while he rubbed her. He could see them though. On the small and soft looking pale mounds, her dusky rose colored nipples hardened into firm little peaks. She moaned again and this time he moaned with her.

He felt her reach up and grip his wrists. Thinking she must be done with the massage, he was completely dumbfounded when she guided his hands to her breasts. He froze. He had never held a female’s breast before. Did she want the massage to include her breasts? He had no idea how to handle the soft tissue. Her hard nipples pressed into his palms. He waited to see what she would do.

Using his wrists, she guided his hands in small circles on her skin, her nipples peeking through his fingers. She slid her hands up to overlay his. He continued caressing her breasts as she’d shown him she liked. When her nipples slipped into the gap between his thumb and first finger, she guided him to gently squeeze them. She groaned loudly when he complied.

He was in the sweetest agony. When she took his wrists again, she led him to rub down her abdomen, almost all the way to the apex of her thighs. He sighed when he felt the soft down of her curls. She guided him back up to her breasts again, only leaving him there long enough for a brief massage and a gentle nipple squeeze before dragging his hands back down the front of her body. As his hands passed over her skin, he spread his fingers as wide as he could, covering as much of the landscape of her body as possible. Back and forth, up and down, he let her control the pace and the placement of his touch.

She seemed to wish for his hands to travel lower, but in this awkward position he had no reach. He longed to move, but was reluctant to accidentally shatter whatever safety this position offered her. When she seemed to grow frustrated at his inability, he gave in. Wrapping one hand around her waist, he lifted them both out of the pool and laid back on the cold stone tile. In the same motion, he lifted her up his body, until her head lay back on his right shoulder, and her hair fell in a wet cascade over his left. Her legs fell open on either side of his hips. Her back pressed against his chest. This freed his poor trapped cocks from between their bodies. He didn’t know if he was relieved or grieved by that.

She stilled against him. Perhaps she could feel his cocks against her leg and feared what actions he might be planning. Perhaps she had forgotten where she actually was and the movement had brought her back to reality. Hartob stilled with her and laid his open palms against her abdomen. He waited. This would continue or not as she chose.

It didn’t take her long to decide. She took his wrists and guided his hands to her breasts again. This time when she pushed his hands down, he was able to reach between her legs and dip into her wetness. She had a hard nub, almost as big as her nipple buried in her soft slick lips. She gasped when he rubbed against it.

Hartob groaned, wishing with all his might he could see what he was doing. She pushed one of his fingers into of her gripping sheath. Hartob pushed it inside of her as far as he could and on impulse, used his thumb to rub that little nub. Her sheath convulsed around him and she pushed up with her hips. She guided his other hand back to her breasts and released his wrists.

To his pleasure, she used both of her hands to caress up and down the parts of his body she could reach. This meant that she was stroking from ribcage to his hips and back. Not the most erotic area, but just the fact that she wanted to touch him was pleasing. He found that with a little dexterity, he was able to spread his hand wide enough to stimulate both of her nipples. He felt a ridge form in her sheath and curled his finger against it.

The Matara began a crescendoing moan that was unmistakably a growing climax. Hartob persisted, keeping to the pace she had set for him. When she screamed out her climax, her sleeve rippled around his finger.

Hartob didn’t stop until she grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from their prizes. He allowed her to guide his hands to her stomach. He spread his fingers across her skin and laid there as she panted.

Soon, the pants turned into sobs. Hartob lifted her gently and carried her back down into the water. Carefully, he rinsed away the cleansing foam and held her against his chest while she cried.

After a while, the throbbing in his cocks mercifully ceased.

Eventually, she pushed away from his chest. She splashed water in her face to wipe away her tears and stood. The sight of her, with the water running in rivulets over her body brought his cocks back to painful life. She gestured for him to stand up. Hartob did so reluctantly. His fear at her reaction to his cocks did absolutely nothing to diminish them.

Her eyes widened as she looked. She glanced up at him questioningly and held up two fingers. He nodded. She raised her hands and then held up two fingers again. Slowly, Hartob bent over and reached between her legs, giving her plenty of time to move out of the way if she wanted. He slipped one finger a little ways into the sheath she had just let him pleasure. She gasped but permitted the touch. He held up one finger. When she nodded, he held up a second finger and moved the finger that was penetrating her back to press on her nether opening. She jumped back from him and looked pleadingly in his eyes.

“No”, she said in a clear and ringing voice.

“Okay… No,” he held up two fingers and shook his head. She crossed her arms over her breasts and he shrugged. “Okay,” he said again.

She seemed pensive as she stood there. Suddenly she strode toward him and grabbed his almost flagging erections with both hands. He fell back against the waterfall and sputtered when water poured in his face. Her grip was firm, bordering on too tight. Hartob reached back and grabbed the stones behind him so he wouldn’t act to defend his most delicate flesh. He turned his head so the water streamed down his chest instead.

They remained in that bizarre tableau: her defiantly gripping his cocks and him leaning back with his hips thrust forward. The pain of her grip grew and Hartob cried out with it. He searched her face and was surprised to find curiosity instead of rage there.

He released the pillar and wrapped his hands loosely around hers. He moaned when she took the hint and decreased the pressure. This time he took her wrists and guided her hands. Up and down his shafts, she stroked him. When she had the tempo and the pressure just right, he released her wrists and put his hands back on the stones.

It was hard not to touch her, not to taste her. She had initiated this sexual experience and he wanted her to determine what it contained. But he longed to take her little bud in his mouth and suck it like a cock. He bet she would love that. The thought of lapping at her juices had his orgasm roaring up like a rocket. With a thrust into her sweet little hands, he erupted on her breasts. Thankfully the surprise of it made her let go because at that exact moment, his knees buckled and he fell on his ass in the water.

When he finally quit spitting out water, he realized she was doing the most surprising thing yet. She was laughing.


End file.
